I can´t help about the shape I´m in
I can´t sing, I ain´t pretty and my legs are thin
But don´t ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to
Oh well

Now, when I talked to God I knew he´d understand
He said, ´´Stick by me, I´ll be your guiding hand
But don´t ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to´´
Oh well

I can´t help about the shape I´m in
I can´t sing, I ain´t pretty and my legs are thin
But don´t ask me what I think of you
I might not give the answer that you want me to
Oh well